Fourteen Years

With all the other stuff going on today, it’s vital that I take a moment out for this.

Fourteen years ago today, my fiance became my wife. George and I stood up in front of our friends and family, in a pavilion in a county park. I remember that there were words, but I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hear any of them over my heart pounding at about 627 beats per minute.

These fourteen years have had their ups and downs–some very high, some very low. There’s a lot I’m grateful for, and a lot I would change. But the good was made better, and the bad at least somewhat mitigated, because she was with me.

In just the past year or two, I’ve come to be reminded of something important, something that almost got lost in the day-to-day life of almost a decade and a half. And that was this:

My favorite thing in the world, bar none, is her laugh.

I love you, George. And thank you.